


Old Habits Die Hard

by Ren (mizdarknezz3)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Sexual Content, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26514976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizdarknezz3/pseuds/Ren
Summary: Wesley's experience with self harm throughout the years.
Relationships: Lilah Morgan/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Old Habits Die Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm Ren and this is my first Buffyverse fic. I love Wesley and wanted to do a little projecting on to him. Hope he doesn't seem to out of character. Let me know if I need to tag for anything else and I hope you enjoy :3

When Wesley was eleven he knew he should be grateful for his life. He went to a good school and had a nice home. He had great grades and a loving mother. Yet that didn’t stop him from feeling stressed and desperate. He always had to be perfect, and perfect was so hard to achieve. Every test that wasn’t a perfect score resulted in a scolding and a slap from his father. Every trip in public, every dropped plate, misplaced object, or word from his teacher that wasn’t completely positive resulted in a scolding and a beating. He didn’t know how to do better, he needed a way to get the stress out. So he turned to cutting. He didn’t have friends to be concerned about and his father didn’t notice. So he did it for years whenever life became too much, which eventually became every day. But his mother saw when he was sixteen, she was so hurt, she cried, begging him to stop. So he did. The scabs slowly turned to scars and they became less dark year after year. 

* * *

Wesley had become a watcher, what he had trained for his entire life! It wasn’t living up to expectations. He followed all the rules and yet no one listened to him. They looked at him like he was a joke, treated him like one too. He tried his best, he really did, but no one really took him seriously. It was exhausting. Not to mention his inappropriate feelings for Cordelia. Those were driving him up the wall with longing and guilt. It was exhausting and he wanted a release. He considered going to a bar but what kind of example would he be setting for his Slayers if he did that? The library was hot, Sunnydale was always much warmer than England. He had gotten used to wearing layers, they helped keep him warm in England and had the added benefit of making him look at least a little bigger than he was. But now the layers were causing him to sweat. He was alone in the library, so he took a moment to lift up his sleeves and wipe his brow. As he pulled his arm back down the faded scars caught his attention. Some were thick and a dull red while others were raised and white. He remembered buying the razor blades and how easy it was to get them to his room. How comforting it had been to know he had one on him at all times. He traced a finger over one of the more raised scars. He remembered how nice it had felt to be in control, to be the one in charge of his pain instead of everyone else causing it. He didn’t live with his mother anymore, he hadn’t for awhile. Now they weren’t even in the same country. If he started again she would never know.

“Ahem,” Giles cleared his throat and Wesley pulled his sleeve down and looked up to see the older man just a few feet in front of him. Wesley didn’t know what to say, most people didn’t react well to his scars. They sneered, made fun of him. Or they gave him such a look of pity that he couldn’t take it. Giles just seemed awkward, he cleared his throat again and looked away from Wesley. “I need some help with some research, Buffy just ran into a demon.” Giles said and Wesley nodded, snapping himself out of his mood. He couldn’t start doing that again, no one in Sunnydale would ever take him seriously again if they found out. Of course. He didn’t need it. He didn’t.

* * *

A fter being in the hospital more than once unconscious and unable to dress himself Wesley knew that all his coworkers (minus Fred and Lorne) knew about his scars. The first time Angel had sent them to the hospital after the explosion Wesley waited for him to say something, to mention them. Or to go easier on Wesley, treat him like a piece of glass. None of that had happened, Angel treated him exactly the same. When Wesley was shot and stuck in the hospital Gunn and Cordelia both sat by his side for days with the scars exposed. Sometimes Cordelia would look at them when she thought he wasn’t looking, but neither of them said anything about it. Wesley appreciated it more than words could say.

* * *

Wesley had fucked up. He had fucked up and now he was alone. Conner was gone, Angel wanted him dead. No one had come to see him, help him get home, check on him. The only other person he saw was Lilah. He had tried drinking the pain away but it still hurt, it all hurt so much. He wanted it to stop, and there was only one way he knew how to deal with it on his own. He went into the bathroom and took apart his razor and took off his clothes and went to work on his legs and arms. He cut until the pain finally numbed and he couldn’t feel anything at all. He sat there in the bathroom and let himself bleed.

* * *

He wasn’t sure when seeing Lilah had gone from an annoyance to a pleasure. He did know that the sex was great. He also knew that she was getting tired of him keeping on as much clothing as possible during sex, and in all honesty he couldn’t bring himself to care about her opinion of him lowering, so that night he let her rip off his shirt popping a few buttons off in the process. He did the same to her blouse and they went at it for a few hours before they were both just laying there sweaty in bed. Lilah was laying on his chest and he had an arm around her. His other hand was behind his head. Lilah was drawing small shapes on his stomach, over his scar from the bullet wound. He felt her sit up and felt her as she straddled his stomach. She smiled at him but her eyes trailed to the arm that had been around her. The arm that was covered in scars and fresh scabbed over lines. She picked it up gently and looked it over.

“What happened?” She asked, she didn’t sound mocking or teasing but it was Lilah.

“You tell me.” He responded. She seemed to concentrate a little for a moment before she turned back to look at him with her sweet smile.

“Don’t tell me the great Wesley Wyndam-Pryce cuts himself.” She said, and now she was being mocking. She put his arm down and leaned down on his chest, her breasts barely touching him.

“We all have our vices.” He said and she leaned down further and licked his neck scar.

“Why do you do it? Is it a kink of yours? Should I bring a knife next time?” She whispered in his ear before biting it.

“No.” He said, pushing her off him, she seemed surprised for a moment and pushed his lips into hers, distracting her from the conversation as they went for another round.

The next time they had sex Lilah didn’t mention the fresh cuts on his arms and thighs, but she did take her time to go through and kiss them.

* * *

Wesley didn’t really know how he felt about working at Wolfram Hart. Maybe it was still just the after affects of Jasmine. He had been so happy, so at peace, that he didn’t even remember why he had been slicing open his arms. But now that was gone and the ache was back and so was the urge. Lilah was gone too, and while he had his friends back it wasn’t the same. So he turned back to the razor. He had almost forgotten how exhilarating it could be to have this secret, something that he was doing that no one else knew about. He spent so much time at the office that he practically lived there, so he ended up doing most of his cutting there. Seeing as he worked with a vampire who could smell blood he made sure to keep a strong smell of cologne on him to help distract from the blood. It seemed to be working since Angel never mentioned anything. Neither did Spike but he could probably be bleeding out in front of Spike and the vampire wouldn’t do anything. Fred was distracted by Knox and Spike and Gunn was loving the new knowledge that they had put in his head. Everyone else seemed happy enough, and that should have been good enough for Wesley, but it wasn’t.

* * *

Fred had gotten hurt in a mission. Wesley hadn’t meant for it to happen. He had tried to protect her, but he hadn’t been enough. He stood in Angel’s office being scolded like a child. He deserved it. He could have gotten Fred killed.

“I don’t know what’s been going on with you Wesley but get it together!” Angel had shouted at him before he left. He went to his office and sat down only for Fred to come in. He tried to apologize to her, explain to her that he understood that it was wrong for him to put her in danger, but she took offense to it. Yelled at him. Then his father walked in. As soon as Wesley saw the man he was pulling his sleeves down as far as they could go. He felt sick down to his stomach.

* * *

He had shot his father. Well it had turned out it wasn’t really his father but he had truly believed it was. What kind of son did that make him? What kind of person? He hadn’t just shot his father, he had shot him until he was sure that he wouldn’t get back up again. He didn’t know what to do, or who he was. He just knew he didn’t want to feel any more. He started cutting more often just to keep the feelings at bay. As long as he could stay numb he would be okay. He sat for over half an hour in different bathroom stalls slicing his skin open trying to make it all go away. He didn’t bother with bandages; he wore enough layers. At least he thought he did. He bled through to his final shirt one day while working in the lab with Fred and Gunn. Fred was the first to notice and grabbed his arm trying to examine it. He ripped his arm away from her and told her he had just nicked himself when putting away some weapons. He left claiming that he would take care of it, instead he just went to his office and sat on the floor behind his desk and tried to breathe. Fred of all people couldn’t find out. See how weak he was. She already would never see him the same way he saw her but he didn’t want her to pity him either. Eventually he got up and sat at his desk and began to research something for one of their clients. An hour after that he headed back to the bathroom.

* * *

“Hey Wes, are you okay?” Angel asked him after a meeting when all the others had left, except a corporal Spike who just stuck around to piss Angel off. 

“I’m just fine Angel.” Wesley responded, Angel had a hand on his shoulder and it made Wesley feel trapped. 

“Nick yourself on another weapon? That’s the third time this week, you really should be more careful mate.” Spike said and Wesley felt Angel’s grip tighten for a moment and Wesley knew if he turned to look at his face he’d see the spark of realization. He yanked himself out of Angel’s grip and made his way out of the office with an excuse about being very busy with research. He went back to his office and sat behind his desk and put his head in his hands and rocked himself back and forth. It was ridiculous to think but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying that Angel would kick him out for this. That they wouldn’t let him work or help the helpless. Maybe they’d lock him up where that one Slayer had been. He couldn’t do that. He had to work, he had to be useful. He got up and went to the bathroom and spent an hour in there before he felt stable enough to go and do more research in his office.

* * *

He had felt spacer as of late. As if he was losing time. He would look away from his books for what he thought was a moment only to find half an hour had passed. The others had seemed to notice that he was a little off and kept trying to convince him to take some time off. Angel kept trying to corner him alone. Lorne kept trying to convince him to sing just a little, he claimed it was for stress relief but Wesley wouldn’t take the chance of Lorne finding out too. The rare times they actually went out to kill demons Wesley found himself taking riskier actions, not thinking things through as well as he should. The results were as expected, he had bruised ribs and a black eye. He suspected one of his toes were broken but he refused to go to a hospital or tell the others in case they tried to make him go to the hospital. He didn’t mind the bruises or the pain, it kept him grounded.

Angel had called an impromptu meeting and Wesley was taking his time to get to it, making sure he wouldn’t be left alone with Angel. By the time he arrived he was the last one, but they weren’t in the meeting room, the others including Spike had gathered in Angel’s office. Wesley walked in and stood by the window, trying to subtly keep his distance from Angel. He folded his arms to cover any bloodstains that may have come through. He noticed very quickly that the others were all looking at him. Not starring, but looking over quickly than looking away, normally they would all be looking at Angel to find out what the meeting was about. Wesley was starting to get the idea he knew what the meeting was about and his heart started beating faster in his chest.

“So what is this about Angel?” He asked, because he wouldn’t know for sure until Angel said it. Lorne closed the door. The blinds were down so no one could look into the office. Angel looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat.

“Well Wesley, we have all noticed that you seem… Stressed lately. We were wondering if you had anything you wanted to talk to us about?” Angel said.

“Because you know you can tell us anything right?” Fred added on earnestly. Wesley shifted trying to see if he could find a way out of this. Maybe they were just concerned about his recent behavior and didn’t have any idea about the cutting? That would be the best possible scenario, he could fix that. He would just have to try harder.

“I suppose I have been feeling under the weather lately.” He said slowly hoping that that would appeal to them. 

“Is that all? Or is something else going on--”

“Oh bugger this!” Spike said and came over and grabbed Wesley’s arm. Pain shot up his arm and Wesley struggled and pulled to get out of his grip but he couldn’t compare to vampiric strength. Spike pulled down his sleeves and revealed his mutilated arm. Fred gasped.

“Oh honey…” Lorne said. Wesley was still struggling to get his arm free when Spike let go. Wesley immediately pulled his sleeve down even though the damage was done and glared at Spike. 

“Wesley man, that’s bad. We need to get that checked out.” Gunn said and Wesley shook his head.

“I’m fine.” He told them.

“You call that fine?” Spike asked and Wesley resisted the urge to growl at him.

“Yes, I’m fine, it isn’t any of your concern.” He hissed out.

“Wes, we can’t let you keep doing this.” Angel said, he sounded much gentler, softer, than he had in weeks. It reminded Wesley when it was just him and Cordelia with Angel sitting in the basement of the office eating breakfast. But those times were long gone. 

“You don’t get to choose what I do.” Wesley snapped. Fred came up to him very slowly, staring at his arms. Carefully she reached out and took a hold of his arm. The damage was already done, he let her take it and she pulled down the sleeve much more gently than Spike had and looked at his arm. There was dried blood caked onto some of the cuts and around them. There were still some old scars that could be seen that he hadn’t wanted to cover. Fred was on the verge of tears and it made his heart ache to know he was the cause. She took his hand into both of hers and closed her hand around his and squeezed.

“I know things are hard right now, and I know you’re struggling. But you don’t need this, you can rely on us. We’ll help you. We’re your family.” She told him and he took a deep breath trying to hold back tears. 

“It just helps, with the pain.” He whispered to her and she nodded as if she understood. Her thumb rubbed circles into his hand.

“Charles will go get some bandages and I’ll clean this up okay? We’re going to be okay.” She reassured him, and even though it didn’t make any reasonable sense, he believed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear your thoughts :3


End file.
